Next week, Timor-Leste will welcome Pope Francis, its first papal visit in 35 years. Aside from being an enormous event in this deeply Catholic country, the two-day visit also has resonance in terms of its recent history.
Authors
Michael Rose
Honorary Lecturer, University of Adelaide
Ivo Mateus Goncalves da Cruz Fernandes
PhD scholar, Department of Pacific Affairs, Australian National University
In 1989, John Paul II's visit to Timor-Leste (then occupied by Indonesia) gave hope to a beleaguered people who had been brutalised by their Indonesian rulers, repeatedly betrayed by Australia, and written off by many others.
Welcoming Francis to a free and independent Timor-Leste is the realisation of what once seemed an impossible dream.
To say this is a cause for excitement is an understatement. But while officials and the foreign media will likely frame the visit by looking back at Timor-Leste's independence struggle, younger Timorese citizens are more concerned with social justice in their fledgling democracy and solidarity with other liberation movements around the world.
Anxiety and anticipation
In Timor-Leste's capital, Dili, the mood over the past week has been a mix of anxiety and joyful anticipation.
While people wait impatiently for the arrival of the man they call Amu Papa, there has also been disquiet - if not disgust - over actions taken by the state, ostensibly to prepare for his visit.
This week, the detentions of an activist and journalist, an assault on street vendors by security forces, and the eviction of families from the site of the papal mass have all caused considerable anger.
While few would say Amu Papa isn't welcome (or even particularly begrudge the chaos caused as the government prepares for an expected crowd of 700,000), his visit has become a flashpoint for heated disagreements over how best to welcome him.
For Timor-Leste's leaders (largely the same men in control since 2002), the pope's visit is a chance to show the country has arrived. Clean streets, a new venue with a specially built altar (part of the US$12 million (A$17.8 million) the government allocated for the visit), and crowds that don't mix prayer and politics are key to the image they want to project.
Timor-Leste's activists, meanwhile, have a different idea of what patriotism means. For them, this is an opportunity to shine a light not just on their nation's achievements, but also on its continuing struggles for social and economic justice, including, notably, for victims of clerical abuse.
They also want to use the occasion to express solidarity with the West Papua independence movement and the Palestinian cause.
Earlier this week, a human rights activist, Nelson Roldão, was detained at gunpoint at Dili's airport by police after dropping off a West Papuan guest. Police seized a bag containing a West Papuan flag, two banners, books and a laptop. After being interrogated, he was released, although the West Papuan materials were not returned.
While displaying the Morning Star flag is illegal in Indonesia, it is not in Timor-Leste. The West Papuan cause understandably enjoys widespread support from the people here (although less from politicians).
Whatever this incident suggests about the nature of Indonesian influence in Timor-Leste, it is clear the local authorities do not want the pope's visit to be a platform for Dili's activists to promote their own concerns.
National symbols evoke powerful emotions in Timor-Leste and the surrounding islands.
During the pope's visit in 1989, a pro-independence banner was unfurled near the altar at the end of the mass. This provoked a brutal response from security forces, but did succeed in bringing the cause of East Timorese independence to a global audience.
The parallels with today, where once again young activists are being told political symbols will not be tolerated at the papal mass, are lost on no one.
In another worrying development on Tuesday night, state security officers were filmed brutally clearing a group itinerant vendors who were selling vegetables from carts in the suburb of Kampung Baru. Shaky mobile phone footage shows a chaotic scene as uniformed men (including one armed with a stick) kicked and tipped over carts and pushed people away as terrified children screamed and cried.
The men also reportedly threatened a journalist covering the incident and took another to the local police station before releasing her.
Sending the right image to the world
Timor-Leste is proud of being rated as the strongest democracy in Southeast Asia. As the eyes of the world focus on the small country, this is a chance to show what that means.
The pontiff is known to care deeply about poverty, human rights and the environment. If a West Papuan, Palestinian or gay pride flag is unfurled at his mass next week, a tolerant response from security officials will surely only increase his admiration for what Timor-Leste has become. Violence like we have seen this week, however, will do the opposite.
Timor-Leste's leaders need to take stock of the incidents this week, how it makes them look, and how they can be avoided in future. An approach that empathises tolerance (and trust) in their remarkable people during the pope's visit is better than one focused on maintaining tight control.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
